


fade away

by DatMoonGamer



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, Post-Canon, Spoilers, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:35:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28276200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DatMoonGamer/pseuds/DatMoonGamer
Summary: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ONE OF THE GAME’S ENDINGS!!!! READ NO FURTHER IF YOU HAVENT DONE THE ROOFTOP ENDING AND DONT WANT TO BE SPOILEDA thing of beauty - I knowWill never fade awayWhat you did to me - I knowSaid what you had to sayBut a thing of beautyWill never fade awayThe aftermath of V’s decision.
Relationships: Panam Palmer/Male V, Panam Palmer/V
Comments: 3
Kudos: 61





	fade away

**Author's Note:**

> First fic be gentle lol, sorry if they’re ooc  
> The ending crushed me so i wrote this in an hour, here ya go  
> More chapters coming up but i need more time to process what happened

Panam regretted hanging up as soon as the call ended.

Something wasn’t quite right about V’s voice.

She managed to wait a few minutes before calling again.

It went to voicemail.

“No, no, no,” she muttered, dialing again.

Still nothing.

She stood up, hands shaking. She strode towards her truck. She slid into the driver’s seat, booting up the engine.

“Hey, Panam!”

She looked out the window. Mitch, still addled by sleep, was waving at her.

“Where ya goin’ this late at night?”

She grit her teeth. She didn’t have time. Something was seriously wrong with V.

“Urgent business. I gotta go, Mitch.”

She hit the gas and shot down the road with a roar.

She tried calling again and again, each one going to voicemail.

The sun was already peeking over the horizon by the time she reached his apartment.

There were a lot of people packing the entrance to his building. Strangers, cops, even the media were here. 

She weaved through the crowd, not bothering to apologize when she shoved someone or stepped on a foot. 

After what seemed like an eternity in the elevator, she reached his floor.

And…

The door to his apartment was wide open, but there was glass blocking the entrance. There was a photo of V, set in the center of his main room. Candles and paper cranes were arranged lovingly around it.

There was someone in there. She had bushy blonde hair and her black makeup was smeared. Her hands were bloody. She exited his stash, stepped around the memorial and entered the bathroom.

Panam fell to her knees.

No. This had to be a mistake. V couldn’t- there was no way he was dead.

She didn’t allow herself to cry or shout. Not in public, not ever.

She stood up. She pushed her way to the door and knocked on it. Hard.

“I know him, let me in!”

 _It’s_ knew _now, Panam, not_ know.

The woman in his room poked her head around the corner. She seemed to recognize Panam. She pushed a button by the door, the glass sliding open just enough for her to squeeze through. It closed again.

She grabbed the woman’s shoulders. “What. Happened.”

“I’m Misty. You’re Panam, right? His girlfriend?”

“Well,” she snapped. “Not anymore, apparently. Now spill.”

Misty flinched.

“He… he shot himself on the roof of a building nearby. It was painless. Went out quietly, went out his way.”

A pause.

She stepped away, shaking her head.

“No, V wouldn’t, he had so much to live for-”

She glared at the memorial.

“Fuck.”

She fumbled for the button to close the door, and it slid over the glass, finally escaping the prying eyes of the public.

She glanced at the memorial once more.

_V would’ve liked this memorial. He would’ve been delighted to know that people cared about him this much._

“Tell me what happened, the events before he offed himself.”

Misty ran a hand over her face, further smearing her eyeliner.

“He had another Relic malfunction. Dragged himself into Vik’s clinic, looking like death, and demanded to be treated. That was Johnny, actually, not V.”

“The diagnosis wasn’t good. He had a few hours left to live, had a few options. He left a note. A short recording, taken right before his...”

Misty handed a shard to her. She snatched it, slotting it into V’s computer. A line-by-line transcript popped up at the bottom of the screen, but she didn’t read it. Didn’t have to. She was transfixed by the video, reading the words as he said them.

“I know...

\---

...exactly why I will do one last thing.”

He threw the pills over the edge of the roof. Johnny watched them fall, then turned back to V.

“OK, lost me. Realize the shit we’ve been through to get this far?”

“Sure do.”

“To let it all go now? Why?”

“Cleanest, least bloody option.” He looked at the gun resting on the table beside him. He looked away. “We try anything else, people’ll die.”

Johnny sat up, his eyes boring into V’s. “People die. It’s the way of things.”

“Am I worth their sacrifice? Are you? ‘Sides, it’s the only way we’ll both be aware.”

“Of what? Death?”

He sighed. Nodded.

“Mhm. The moment life escapes.”

Johnny leaned forward.

“Hmm. Never really gave it a thought. Funny how you still manage to surprise me sometimes.”

“Might be somethin’ I learned from you.”

Johnny’s voice was soft. Softer than he had ever heard it.

“V, you sure about this?”

“Long as you got nothin’ against it.”

“Not how I’da done it, but that’s all right.”

V raised an eyebrow.

“Just like that?” No pushback?”

“Huh, might’ve learned a little somethin’ from you, too.”

“Is it time?”

He gazed out at the city. The advertisements and neon signs contrasted sharply with the dark buildings. Cars drove by far below. The dark cyan-blue sky was obscured by city smog, the stars invisible, but still there, twinkling in the distance.

“Y’know, it really is beautiful.”

They were silent for a few moments.

“Been nice workin’ with ya, V.”

“Yeah… with you too, Johnny...”

He grabbed the pistol. Ran his thumb along the smooth, cool iron. He raised it to his head, pressed it against where the Relic was slotted. He took a deep breath and closed his stinging eyes. 

_I’m sorry, Panam._

A single shot rang out.

\---

Text blinked on the screen.

End of recording.

Panam curled her hands into fists. She punched the wall beside his computer.

She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but all that came out was a strangled sound.

She pushed past Misty and fell on his bed.

There was a hoodie laid out on the bed. The red-orange-yellow sunset hoodie that he wore all the time.

He hadn’t been wearing it when he died, she thought, he was wearing a brown jacket with a light-up collar that bathed his face in blue.

She buried her face in V’s pillow, the pillow that still smelled like him, and wondered how she would go on from here.


End file.
